


Forgotten

by tastewithouttalent



Category: Another - Ayatsuji Yukito
Genre: Boys Kissing, Chocolate, Established Relationship, Fluff, Inline with canon, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 03:09:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3341294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tastewithouttalent/pseuds/tastewithouttalent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Teshigawara has entirely forgotten what day it is when his mother taps gently at the door of his room." Teshigawara forgets the date, which only makes Kazami's surprise the better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forgotten

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shiny_Pichu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiny_Pichu/gifts).



Teshigawara has entirely forgotten what day it is when his mother taps gently at the door of his room. The day is almost over anyway -- the sun has just sunk below the horizon, the surroundings outside gone dim with the oncoming night, and Teshigawara is considering actually doing some of the studying Kazami is always pestering him about when the sound pulls his attention to the door.

“Naoya, you have a visitor.” His mother refrains from commenting on the fact that he’s reading manga instead of studying, only offering a knowing lift of her eyebrow as Teshigawara lets the book fall shut and pushes back from the desk.

“Who is it?” He can’t imagine who it could be coming by this late on a school night; there’s nothing in particular he has to do tomorrow, unless maybe there’s some group project he’s forgotten about. The possibility tightens his shoulders, inflicts him with the pressure of unformed guilt for a moment before his mother laughs, reaches out to press a comforting hand against his shoulders.

“No need to look so panicked, it’s just Kazami.” She pushes him gently towards the stairs, urging him towards the front door. “I invited him in but he said he just had something to drop off. Did you forget your textbooks at school again?”

“Maybe,” Teshigawara laughs, although he’s pretty sure the weight of his school bag on the way home means he didn’t. Still, even if it  _is_  a school project he’s forgotten about, it’ll be worth it to see Kazami. Teshigawara misses the other’s presence, the careful shape of his smile and the way his eyes sometimes go soft behind the cover of his glasses, and he can’t really complain about Kazami’s dedication to his studies but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel the lack of the other’s presence in his life.

He goes outside without putting shoes on, ignoring his mother’s shout of protest from the top of the stairs in favor of sliding out the door fast, like Kazami might disappear if he waits too long.

The other looks up as the door comes open, reaches up to push his glasses up against his nose as Teshigawara jogs out to the front gate on feet aching immediately from contact with the cold sidewalk. He looks down instead of up, raises an eyebrow at Teshigawara’s bare toes, and the first thing he says is, “You really should be wearing shoes outside.”

“Don’t be boring,” Teshigawara insists, leaning in over the gate until Kazami looks up to see his grin. “You have something for me? Did I forget my notebook or something?”

Kazami rolls his eyes, huffs a humorless laugh. “You never do your homework anyway. What would you do with your notebook in any case?”

“What is it, then?” Teshigawara would believe Kazami was just looking for an excuse to visit, except that he hardly needs an excuse, and besides he’s leaning away, keeping Teshigawara at arm’s length in spite of the invitation of the other’s angle. The knowledge stings a little, the bitter rejection an ache against Teshigawara’s chest no less painful because it’s become familiar.

He’s pushing that aside, clinging to the sincerity of his smile to hide the hurt, so he doesn’t notice the way Kazami drops his head, the way his gaze slides sideways and away like he’s afraid to meet Teshigawara’s gaze.

“It’s this.” He’s holding out a box; he must have been holding it just behind his hip, or maybe Teshigawara wasn’t paying enough attention to notice it before. It’s wrapped in blue paper, only the silver shine of a ribbon to cut through the dark of the paper itself, and as soon as Teshigawara sees it he remembers the importance of today’s date.

“ _Oh_.” He reaches out, takes the weight of the package from Kazami’s hand. It’s a familiar size, the weight telling of the usual Valentine’s chocolates inside. Kazami is watching his face, his mouth twisting into the beginnings of a knowing smile as he watches Teshigawara’s reaction.

“You forgot, didn’t you?” he asks, his voice holding no trace of doubt that he is right.

“I thought about it at school,” Teshigawara says, which is true.

“But not after,” Kazami says for him, which is also true.

Teshigawara looks up, smiles wide. “Yeah. I totally forgot.”

Kazami’s smile is still lingering. It’s the longest Teshigawara has seen him smile since he started studying for entrance exams months ago, the most relaxed he has looked in weeks. “You don’t have anything for me, do you?”

Teshigawara’s heart is fluttering hard against his chest, bubbling delight blending into adrenaline until he can’t help the way his fingers tremble on the box in his hand. It’s that that makes him speak, words slipping rushed and reckless over his tongue when he says, “Actually, I do.”

Even in the dim light he can see Kazami’s eyebrow go up, the smirk at his mouth pulling wider and catching a sparkle against his eyes. “Do you, now?”

Teshigawara takes a breath. “Yeah.” He darts his tongue across his lips, the motion as much nerves as an attempt to dampen his mouth. “Come closer.”

He is expecting Kazami to pull back instead, recent memory overriding a history of trust. But Kazami steps in close, as easily as if the last few months of growing distance never happened at all, or as if he can step over them as easily as he crosses the physical gap between them.

“Close enough?” Kazami asks. The words gust warm across Teshigawara’s mouth, Kazami is so near, and Teshigawara could lean back to his side of the fence but he doesn’t.

“Yeah,” he says, and leans in to press his mouth to Kazami’s. He can feel the little exhale of amusement the other makes, the air blowing warm at his cheek, and there’s no surprise in Kazami’s touch when his fingers come up to feather into Teshigawara’s hair. He tilts the other’s head to the side, fits their mouths in closer, and when Teshigawara opens his mouth to taste the surface cool of Kazami’s lips the other is already shifting to match as if he expected the movement.

Teshigawara isn’t surprised. No one knows him better than Kazami.


End file.
